The Great Gig in the SKy.

What happens when...

I'm not afraid of dying.
Any time will do.
Why should I be scared?
There is no reason for it.


I'm so sorry for the way I've been living.
And I wish I could take back the lying and cheating.
And all of the deceit.

I heard things, I didn't listen.
And what was learned was misconstrued.

But now, I'm older.
As the wind grows colder.
As it pierces my ever-fading skin.
Like the sharp sword I was poised in my hands.
Stabbing at my canvas.
Creating a picture, painting a scene.
My fucked up edifice in one hand.
A cute alluring smile in the other.

I don't think I am complete. But I don't think I ever wanna be.
I'm glad I'm not where I was.
I don't wanna go back.
However.
I don't wanna move to forward.
That just isn't for me.